


An Olive Branch

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boggarts, Curse Breaker Hermione Granger, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Malfoy Manor (Harry Potter), Panic Attacks, Post-Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29998554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hermione had been given difficult assignments before. Dangerous ones as well. It was expected and was one of the reasons that she enjoyed her work so much. The challenge that came with being a Curse Breaker was the primary reason she had been convinced to leave her job at the ministry. But she hadn’t been back to Malfoy Manor since that day and now she was going to be forced to go back for an assignment...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Kudos: 15
Collections: 2021 DBQ Round One: Boggart





	An Olive Branch

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [TheSlytherinCabal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinCabal/pseuds/TheSlytherinCabal) in the [DBQ2021Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2021Round1) collection. 



> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R. and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended. The theme for this round of the competition was Boggart and my chosen pairing was Lucius Malfoy/Hermione Granger. Comments/Reviews are encouraged by The Slytherin Cabal's Admin Team on all stories in Death By Quill, but comments left by readers are set to be moderated by story authors until the end of the competition in order to protect participants' anonymity. Thank you to my beta for their time and help.

Hermione had been given difficult assignments before. Dangerous ones as well. It was expected and was one of the reasons that she enjoyed her work so much. The challenge that came with being a Curse Breaker was the primary reason she had been convinced to leave her job at the ministry. It kept her on her toes.

But this…

She grimaced and dropped the file onto her desk, rubbing her left forearm absently. The scar didn’t hurt anymore but it still looked as fresh as it had the day her arm was carved into. The cursed blade that had been used would ensure that it never faded.

She hadn’t been back to Malfoy Manor since that day and, from what she could tell from the report she had been left, it seemed as though it had been abandoned after the war ended. 

Draco, of course, was in residence at Grimmauld Place with Harry and had been since the end of their eighth year at Hogwarts. Their relationship had sent shockwaves through the wizarding world when it was new, but Hermione had never seen Harry happier and they had been together for years now. 

Through Draco, she knew that Narcissa had elected to spend her house arrest at one of the Malfoy properties in France, and had chosen to remain there afterward as well. Lucius had joined her there following his five-year stint in Azkaban, but she had heard that he had moved back to London after Narcissa’s death nearly two years ago. Her assumption that he moved back into the Manor had clearly been wrong.

Now, Lucius was on a mission to go through the Manor and was in need of a Curse Breaker to assist with what was described in the report as a monumental task. Considering what she had learned from Draco of the time that Voldemort had taken up residence there, she couldn’t say she was surprised that Lucius had been unsuccessful at his task alone. While she knew that he was a powerful wizard, she had personally duelled him at the Department of Mysteries, after all, there were just some things that needed to be handled by a professional. 

She hated that the professional assigned to this task was her.

She gathered a few things from her desk, including the file, and stashed them in her satchel before slinging it over her shoulder. Though she knew it was there, she still touched her sleeve covering her right arm, feeling her wand stored in the holster. It grounded her.

Hermione took a deep breath and steeled her nerves. It was just a house. A house she had personally been tortured in, yes, but still...just a house. It had been nearly ten years. She was a professional and she could do this. 

She also knew that it would be pointless to ask her boss to reassign her. So, she threw a handful of Floo powder into the office fireplace, took one more calming breath, stepped in, and called out Malfoy Manor. 

Upon coming to a stop, she stepped onto the hearth, released her wand from its holster, and cleaned herself off before looking around. The large oak desk took up most of the room, with built-in bookshelves lining the wall behind it, and a pair of black wingback chairs sat in front of where she stood.

The sound of a throat clearing brought her attention to the man waiting for her arrival. Next to the large window taking up most of one wall stood Lucius Malfoy, wearing a pair of jeans and a pale green casual button-down, with his hair pulled back. To say she was surprised by his casual muggle appearance would be an understatement. 

She stared.

He smirked.

She blushed.

“Mr Malfoy,” Hermione greeted him after a long moment with a stiff nod of her head. “Where would you like to start?”

* * *

Hermione stepped through the Floo and into the same study she had arrived in on the first day.

They had been at it all week, and while they had made a substantial amount of progress there was still a lot to do. If they managed to get through all of the rooms still needing to be cleared by the end of the next week, she would be shocked.

“Miss Granger,” Lucius greeted with his standard smirk as he looked up from the parchment he had been reading when she arrived. “Do you think you can manage without me for a bit? There is an urgent matter that I need to respond to as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Hermione replied, reaching into her satchel and pulling out the case folder. She quickly glanced through the contents of the folder and made a decision. “I’ll get started on the third-floor bedrooms.”

“Call Tippy if you need anything before I join you.” 

Hermione nodded but knew she wouldn’t call on the elf. Over the course of the week, she had begun to feel that Lucius had come to begrudgingly respect her and, while she knew it was silly, she felt the need to continue to prove herself. She felt that calling for help wouldn’t allow her to do that. He returned to his work and she exited the study and made her way up the staircase to the third floor. 

She took the hall to the left and entered the first bedroom, unable to help but smile as she entered. The walls were covered in quidditch posters and photos, and the bookshelf was lined with the required texts from their years at Hogwarts and small trinkets. A giant four-poster bed took up most of the room and was draped in green and silver. 

_How stereotypically Slytherin, Draco…_

Her mirth didn’t last long. It only took her a moment to remember why she was there and that the boy who had lived in this room had been forced to grow up too quickly, just as she and her friends had been, and had been witness to countless horrors in his own home. A place where he should have been safe.

She removed her wand from its holster and got to work, casting spells to check for residual dark magic, and breaking it down as she went. She was relieved that Draco’s childhood room was the least affected room in the Manor she had come across so far. Happy that he had at least he had been afforded this small sanctuary of peace during the war. She finished the last of her traces, and exited the room, closing the door gently behind her.

She entered the next room and continued her work, where she quickly picked up on a dark presence in the wardrobe. She cast a few additional detection spells, which confirmed that she had found a boggart. She cleared the rest of the room before turning back to the wardrobe, contemplating her options.

Hermione grimaced, knowing that her boggart certainly wouldn’t be Professor McGonagall telling her she had failed everything this time. It made her long for their early years at Hogwarts. While there had been danger - it was Hogwarts, after all, and they had been magnets for trouble - it paled in comparison to what they went through during the war.

She knew she should call for Tippy and wait for Lucius to join her. Boggarts, she remembered from her first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Remus, were much easier to defeat when there were others around. But her desire to prove herself, combined with her Gryffindor spirit, made her reckless. She flicked her wand at the wardrobe door, opening the door. 

The room spun around her. _She couldn’t breathe._

Logically, she knew it wasn’t her. She had seen the witch die at the wand of Molly Weasley during the final battle after battling her with Ginny and Luna.

But logic had no place here. Not now.

She stared at the witch in front of her. Her heart raced as she took in the mad eyes and the riotous curls that rivalled her own as Bellatrix stalked forward, brandishing her wand at her. The same wand she had used when they broke into the Lestrange vault at Gringotts.

She hated that wand.

Hermione knew she should do something. Her own wand was clutched in her hand and she knew the spell. But she couldn’t think of a thing to make this funny. Not here. Not in the house where this witch had tortured her. 

She felt a cold sweat dampening her skin as she sank to the ground. She pulled her knees to her chest and tried to focus on her breath. In. Out. 

She tried counting as she breathed. _Inhale, one. Exhale, two. Inhale, three. Exhale, four..._

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

It wasn’t working.

She tried to remember the grounding technique her mind healer had taught her. She acknowledged five things she could see in the room: a bed, a desk, a quill, a wingback chair, and a decorative pillow. She slowly reached up and touched her hair, before sliding her hand down her body and touching her robes and her jeans, before settling it on the rug she sat on, running her fingers over it lightly. 

Three things she could hear...her breathing, Bellatrix’s maniacal laugh…

She couldn't get past it. She started the process over. 

Five things she could see. Four things she could touch. Three things she could hear. She closed her eyes and tried to focus...she could hear her breathing, a bird singing, and Draco’s voice.

Draco’s voice?

She opened her eyes and found Draco standing where Bellatrix had been. But this Draco was not the Draco she knew.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, proudly showing off the Dark Mark on his left arm. The Draco she knew had covered his Mark with tattoos years ago. She had even gotten a small tattoo of her own in solidarity during one of the many nights they spent in the tattoo parlour Theo opened after Hogwarts. 

This Draco stood tall and proud, eyes flashing dangerously as he ranted about Mudbloods and spoke of his devotion to the Dark Lord. She hadn’t heard the Draco she knew call anyone a Mudblood since their sixth year, and even then she had been able to tell his heart hadn’t truly been in it.

But Draco didn’t scare her. He never had. He had been a bully, but she had never been fearful of him. So why was he here and where did Bellatrix go?

She lifted her head and looked around the room. Her heart clenched. Lucius stood in the doorway, his wand held limply at his side, staring at Draco. He was breathing heavily and his shoulders were hunched. He looked defeated.

More than anything else she had tried, that look of defeat on Lucius Malfoy’s face brought her to her feet and gave her the strength she needed to raise her wand and mutter the incantation. “Riddikulus.”

She chuckled halfheartedly when boggart Draco turned into a ferret. She quickly opened her satchel and pulled out a lockbox, then used her wand to direct the ferret into the box before it could pick a new form to terrorize them with. She latched the box and put a locking charm on it before returning it to her satchel. She would let someone at the ministry handle the boggart later.

She was exhausted.

They stood in silence for a few moments, both staring at the now empty wardrobe. Hermione finally waved her wand to shut the door to the wardrobe before turning around and facing Lucius, who seemed to have regained some of his composure.

“I thought I told you to call for Tippy if you needed help,” he drawled as he pocketed his wand and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You did.”

“And you didn’t listen.”

“I thought I could handle it.” She shrugged. It was half the truth, at least. She really had thought she could handle it and she refused to admit to him that she felt a need to prove herself. He likely suspected that to be part of the reason, anyway. No need to voice it. 

“Well, we both clearly overestimated our abilities in that regard.” 

“Want to talk about it?”

“Do I want to talk about how my worst fear is my son continuing to make the same mistakes I did to the witch who single-handedly proves every one of the misguided beliefs about blood purity that I bought into wrong?” He leaned his head back against the doorframe and grimaced. “Not particularly.”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. She was pretty sure there was a compliment in there. And possibly an apology, even if it wasn’t a direct one. While it wasn’t enough, it was a start. 

“How about a drink, then?” she asked, offering him a small smile and an olive branch. ”I could _really_ use a shot of Firewhisky right about now.”

A ghost of a smirk crossed his face. “A drink I can do.”

“Lead on then, Mr Malfoy.”

“Lucius,” he said quietly, resting his hand on the small of her back as they exited the room, leading her back down the hallway toward the staircase. “Please call me Lucius.”


End file.
